


Why is everything so quiet?

by Asher523



Category: The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild
Genre: Gen, Injury, Memory Loss, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Self-Doubt, Silence, Slow Burn, Wolf Link (Legend of Zelda), Work In Progress
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-27
Updated: 2018-09-27
Packaged: 2019-07-18 10:37:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,655
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16116659
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Asher523/pseuds/Asher523
Summary: Link wakes up in a world where he has no idea where or who he is, and his only guidance is a disembodied voice telling him his own name and what he is, supposedly, here to do.Angst ensues.





	1. Chapter 1

Link takes in a deep breath as he sinks against the beat-up log in his borrowed camp.

Everything hurts.

He slides lower to try to get his feet closer to the fire, but only succeeds in falling off the log and hitting the cold stone abruptly. The camp smells like Bokoblins, which isn't pleasant, so he wanted to avoid the ground. But now that he's down, does he want to get up?

He starts to push himself up then stops as the strained muscles protest. No. He'll take the monster grime over feeling that again. His makeshift sword rests just within reach, a reminder that he is not only in constant danger, but is also far from equipped to face it.

It feels wrong to sit here in plain sight like this, but what doesn't feel wrong? He's vulnerable. His only clothes are some ratty things he found in a cave and what seems to serve as unusually resilient underwear. At least he has that going for him. He may be weak right now, but at least he's not naked. That would make the night even more difficult to withstand. 

Everything here feels strange, but in that deja vu way that he can't tell if it's because it's very familiar or very new. He supposes it might be both, but he doesn't know how he recognizes it.

Link keeps his silence as he looks out at the daylight fading over two mountains in the distance. It's a beautiful view. He can't deny that, even if it is the remains of a ruined civilization.

Thanks to him?

He mulls this over for a while. Link presumes this might be less destroyed if he had saved the world sooner. Had he been a hero before? If he had, it would make sense that he was the one that was protected and trusted like this. Though if he were a good hero, maybe he wouldn't need saving.

Damn. Those are not really the encouraging thoughts Link could use right now, are they? It's not productive to tear at his own self esteem. He lets out a sigh, allowing himself to close his eyes and regroup. He needs to deal with everything physical first. The most urgent is probably... his hands. Link digs through his pockets for the Bokoblin horn he found in the pile of dust left from one of the monsters that used to live here.

Until he has an actual knife, this will have to do. He carefully removes the lower part of his shirt using the sharp edge of the horn. It's not a very tough fabric, and falls apart easily from age, so it isn't a difficult task. This cloth can be wrapped around his hands to prevent quite as many scratches, scrapes, and blisters. Eventually, maybe he'll be able to find or buy some gloves.

Once that's done, he can't do much else to fix himself up. Bruises are plentiful. A particularly nasty gash on his leg has started to heal just fine thanks to a paste the old man gave him, but he doesn't want to ask for help with mere bruises. Link will have to find the right ingredients for a potion or wait for them to heal on their own.

Link tugs his tangled mess of straps and weapons along with him, and groans as one of the bowstrings breaks just from that little bit of force. Oh well, at least it didn't waste an arrow. He rolls a little closer to the warmth of the fire, trying not to let it bother him.

...It bothers him.

He tries to pretend it doesn't exist, just like the questions of who and where he is, and brings his knees up to preserve his body heat better. As the sun disappears, it's getting cold, and he really wishes they supplied him with some sort of blanket. He probably won't die out here, but it's going to be a long night. Wouldn't that be a sad fate, dying of cold on his first night out?

Link puts an arm over his face, the not-so pleasant scent of monster blood and dust making him regret that decision. He doesn't move, though. The pressure's nice on the headache he's been fighting since he got here. Got here? Maybe that's the right word for it.

If he keeps going like this, he's going to start that feeling of emptiness again, and while that's productive, it's no good for thinking. Link needs to balance that, and it's hard to calm himself down enough to rest when his body seems to shut off everything but instincts and habits whenever it gets to be too much.

He keeps his arm there, and it blocks out the light enough that he can feel the beginnings of sleep working their way through his mind, making things just a little more foggy.

He hopes he doesn't dream.


	2. Chapter 2

A loud roar sends Link awake before his eyes are even open. He narrowly avoids the hot coals from the night before in his scrambling to stand. His feet buzz with the need to move quickly even as the blood rushes from his head from doing just that. His vision is littered with black spots, and he hopes to Hylia that he won't pass out.

As his eyes clear and things stop spinning, Link finds himself alone. His only company is the sound of wind and a quick click-rattle of a grasshopper taking off. Morning fog obscures the horizon, but there's no immediate danger in the open fields on one side of his camp, nor any threat from the skull-shaped hideout of monsters nearby. He quickly turns to look behind him, but it's just the big rocky wall that hasn't changed from last night. He's safe.

Still on edge, he wastes no time strapping his things back to him. It's a lot more comforting to have a club and sharpened stick in reach than on the ground. His eyes flick around nervously, but the quiet is eerie and constant. Low thunder sounds in the distance, and his shoulders relax when he attributes his panic to the thunder instead of some horrific new beast. Thunder he can deal with, especially when he lacks any metal weapons at the moment. The soft hiss of rain that begins in the distance indicates that Link probably shouldn't be standing downhill right now, and he takes the hint.

It's a shame to leave, but there are shrines to find, and he really needs to start thinking about food. He'd rather not eat bugs if he can avoid it. Some are poisonous, but knowing which ones would make that knowledge a lot more helpful. Link opens his Sheikah slate to see if there's maybe some description of local plant life. He's still not fully sure of how the thing even works. It has an inventory screen, but does it just detect what he has on him? And what use is an inventory screen with so many slots? He can carry a lot, but not that much.

For now, he shrugs it off, disappointed to find no hint of an informational screen about, well, anything. He does have a quest list, though, which is helpful. It's nice to have something organized when his memory is so spotty. Now, just in case he forgets he's supposed to defeat some messed up dragon thing called Ganon, he has a bit of text to remind him.

He starts walking absentmindedly, fiddling with the tablet more even as his clothes slowly get drenched from the cool rain. Link's curiosity overpowers his discomfort. Earlier, he got something called 'magnesis' but he has no clue how to activate it anymore. It has something to do with the slate. He knows that. He turns it over, examining the complex design. This is one of the few things he's been given, and it should have come with a guide so he can use it. He almost drops it when he hits a button and a faint hologram-like image of a magnet abruptly envelops his hands, extending outward. That's still really weird.

He hears something crashing through leaves, then, and quickly puts the slate back in the loop on his hip, drawing his club. His legs move before he thinks to move them, just before he recognizes it's a hog charging him at top speed. Link narrowly avoids a full collision by leaping aside. Despite the effort, its tusk catches his leg and sends him shoulder-first into a tree on the way down. Pain shoots down his side and he wheezes, pushing himself up enough to try to assess the damage while he forces breath to and from his lungs. He's supposed to be this world's hero. He can't afford to faint in the middle of the woods because some stupid pig knocked him over.

When he looks, nausea builds alongside the pain. That's not at all how his arm is supposed to connect to the rest of him. He looks up and away from it for a second, pressing his back against the same tree he blames for being in his way.

Deep, slow breathing. He needs to see the injury to tell if it's broken or dislocated. Desperately, he looks to see if his slate has some repair function so he can just remove the sleeve. When he taps the image for the shirt, however, it disappears in a flash of light.

That's extremely convenient right now, and he might think it was funny if his shoulder didn't look like it had decided to migrate forward and also act like it was on fire, a sensation Link feels like he knows well even though he can't think of when he would've learned it.

It's hard to tell whether he's shattered it or dislocated it, but there's nothing breaking the skin and it's already turning all sorts of colors. The bone juts out awkwardly and wrongly, and he knows that logically, he's supposed to put it back in place but he both doesn't want to move it and doesn't know how.

He should have medical training. It's dumb that he doesn't. Link slowly grabs his arm to keep it in a position that doesn't feel as terrible. His eyes scan the woods around him to find any sign of help. Panic sets in when he realizes his vision is largely obscured from both the rain and the trees around him. The threat of an attack while he's vulnerable makes his throat tighten, and he wishes he could yell for help but the sound won't come out and the fear of an enemy hearing is paralyzing.

Link's going to die like this, and it's his own fault.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dang, almost two times passing out in one day. Poor guy.
> 
> I'm keeping to my general playthrough of this along with my skill level of Terrible. Between that and Link's absurd frailty at the beginning of the game, I hope you guys are ready for our boy to be in lots of pain.


	3. Chapter 3

A light, fuzzy sensation is the first thing he recognizes. It's heavy on his head like a soft blanket, and it takes effort for Link to open his eyes. His head feels like it was run over, and he hisses a breath in when he groggily attempts to sit up. 

Nope. Not happening. He sinks back down onto the rug, and tries to get his priorities in order. The slate is on his hip. He doesn't have a sword. He doesn't know where he is right now, and is injured but healing, as it seems. 

He feels his shoulder, remembering now exactly what happened. It's bandaged up, and there's not much pain, so he rolls it experimentally. It's not broken, just sore, and definitely back in place. As for his surroundings, it looks like a small shed. A rug is folded beneath him, and food sits within reach. He registers the food into the slate before gathering the will to stand. Just gotta get a leg underneath the rest of him...

Easy does it... There! He leans heavily against a table, but he is up and the spinning sensation is slowing, which is promising. Link decides the best follow-up plan would be the door, and braces himself for the worst.

It's pretty close to the worst. As soon as the door opens, the first thing he registers is something very large and inhuman making a mad dash straight for him. Link's eyes go wide, but he stands frozen as the creature skids to a stop in front of him, nearly nose to nose.

It pants in his face, meeting Link's eye contact in a way he has yet to see any animal besides horses do. Its tongue lolls out of its weirdly smiley mouth, and he can't help the noise of relief that escapes when he realizes it isn't here to hurt him. 

He's half expecting it to lick his face, but instead it just backs up and settles, tilting its head.

"I see the treatment worked." A familiar voice calls from the other side of a cooking pot. "Your friend, here, found you in quite the trouble. You're lucky he brought you here in time, or you might have been Bokoblin brunch."

Link nods, and gives the wolf a head scratch of thanks. It tenses for a moment, but then its tail thumps against the forest floor. 

"The thing's a real riot. I had to give it a strong shove to keep it from following you inside, and the bribe of some scraps, of course." The old man continues, and Link glances at him in acknowledgment. The wolf is interesting. Not only is it huge, with unusual markings, but its behavior is decidedly docile. Link wonders if he could ride it like a horse, but doesn't care to try that just yet. 

"I presume your journey isn't going well." The old man finally addresses, and this time, Link doesn't look at him. He's just regaining his strength. He'll get there, right? A hundred years of bedrest doesn't do the body good, Link's sure, and- 

The man interrupts his thoughts sternly, "Ignoring me is not going to resolve that issue. Take care of yourself. You don't have time to waste on reckless decisions." 

Link's first thought is to spit back something about needing time, or to get off his back, but his mouth doesn't even open to make one. Instead, he just slowly sinks to the ground next to the dog to avoid being able to look the old man in the eye. "Link." He continues, and Link just runs a hand back through the wolf's thick fur. "You're better than this. You are the sworn knight of the princess, bound by destiny to protect yourself, her, and all of Hyrule at all costs. And you're going to be defeated by the safest place left?"

Link squeezes harder now, and a small growl from the dog warns that this is not appreciated. It shakes him off and pads to the other side of the fire so that Link is forced to look at who is speaking to him.

Link wishes he could cry. Right now, his face stays unexpressive as ever, staring down the fire beneath the pot like it's the Calamity. He needs to focus on that, because talking isn't important right now. He cringes away from the contact on his shoulder until he realizes it's a hand.

"Time is of the essence, but you cannot keep going like this. When was the last time you threw together a good meal, or rested legs for a while?" He peers at Link from under his hood, and Link finally looks back. "If you do not rest, your body will fail you. Come here whenever you need. Borrow an axe, sit by the fire. If you want to make yourself useful, chop some firewood, or maybe figure out a nice recipe we can all share."

At this, the wolf's ears perk up, and the old man chuckles.

"Sit down. You can tell me how your mission has gone thus far, and perhaps introduce me to your new friend. It won't take long, so humor me."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah! Sorry it's been such a long while.
> 
> I'm hoping this one turned out well. It's been in the making for a lot longer than the others, and I've been pretty busy lately. 
> 
> Leave me a comment to let me know what you think! I don't bite. :)


End file.
